


After the Lullaby Fades

by Evie_adams273



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Albus being a good friend, Best Friends, Caring, Funeral, Lots of tears, caring for each other, friends - Freeform, probably going to end up kissing one day, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 00:30:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19345858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evie_adams273/pseuds/Evie_adams273
Summary: After Scorpius doesn't show up for the train at the start of their third year, Albus starts to worry about what might have happened to his friend. When they finally see each other later on, the hellish reality comes crashing in on them both.





	After the Lullaby Fades

Albus stood silently, watching the train sitting in the station. He had very little interest in going back to Hogwarts, but it did mean that he was able to avoid his dad’s attempt to be fun and cheerful with him. It never worked because, while it was well-meant, it was often incredibly cringy and awkward. And it was just an act. Albus wished so much that they could just attempt to be a normal family. For once.

That, of course, never happened. And it likely never would.

He wished, at least, that his dad could stop pretending everything was absolutely fine and dandy when it was so bloody obvious that it wasn’t. He understood acting in that way when they were in public. He understood that the cameras would pick up on anything and everything to use as gossip. But the guard never came down, not even at home. And if it did come down, it never came down for him. He wasn’t worth it, apparently.

Albus knew that he should have been used to it at that point, but it still hurt that, for some reason, he and his dad were no longer a father and son. Not really. A father was meant to be someone that he could rely on, trust. Albus would rather tell his bullies his deepest secrets than tell his dad. Not that he really had any deep secrets. It wasn’t unknown as to how he felt about his family and that was the most private thing about him. Someone else always knew the other things about him. Sometimes, he wanted to put in some sort of effort towards fixing the mess, but he never did.

It seemed that, every time he took a step towards being brave enough to step up, to be the bigger person, something knocked him back. Or he snapped. Or someone, normally James, interrupted. Whatever it was, it prevented him from doing anything. Every single time. Every. Single. Damn. Time.  
“Third year,” Harry wondered up behind him, smiling. “Big year. Here is your permission form for Hogsmeade.”  
“I hate Hogsmeade,” Albus muttered – the morning had been a particularly bad one.  
“How can you hate a place you haven’t actually visited yet?” Harry said exasperatedly.  
“Because I know it’ll be full of Hogwarts students.”

Albus took the paper and screwed it up into a ball, concentrating his anger into his fist. He wasn’t sure who he was angry at. If he was honest in his own head, it was probably himself. He understood why he was such a disappointment – he was utterly pathetic.  
“Just give it a go,” Harry said, “come on – this is your chance to go nuts in Hogsmeade without your mum knowing.”

Albus pulled his wand out, holding the little ball of paper out in front of him. He had no interest in being forced down to Hogsmeade by anyone and he was going to make sure it couldn’t happen. If he wasn’t too much of a Squib to manage the spell.  
“No, Albus,” Harry saw him, “don’t you dare!”  
“Incendio.”

Albus watched the burst of fire as it travelled a little way down the platform, burning up the permission slip as it went.   
“Of all the stupid things,” Harry snapped.  
“The ironic thing is I didn’t expect it to work,” Albus muttered. “I’m terrible at that spell.”  
“Al – Albus,” Harry attempted to speak calmly. “I’ve been exchanging owls with Professor McGonagall – she says you’re isolating yourself – you’re uncooperative in lessons – you’re surly – you're–”  
“So what would you like me to do?” Albus interrupted angrily, something snapping in his head. “Magic myself popular? Conjure myself into a new house? Transfigure myself into a better student? Just cast a spell, dad, and change me into what you want me to be, okay? It’ll work better for both of us. Got to go. Train to catch. Friend to find.”

He ran down the platform, ignoring his dad’s calls behind him while scanning the crowd for the familiar mop of white-blond hair. While he knew his dad would have been upset by his outburst, he was pleased he had actually said the shit he’d needed to get off his chest. He now had a year to bottle up completely new feelings.

After he had run the length of the platform, not seeing Scorpius in any corner, he pulled himself up onto the train, starting to walk down the carriages. He was a little slower now, ducking out the way of students that he knew heavily disliked him. Which was the majority of them.

He also had his trunk, which was an entirely new mess in itself. He had delayed packing until the absolute last minute, some random idea of simply refusing to go playing in his head. It hadn’t worked, his mother having come into his room at eight o’clock the previous night and telling him to pack. He had finally complied after that, accepting that there was no way to avoid going back to yet another place that he hated.

As he walked down the train, he became increasingly concerned, unable to find Scorpius anywhere. He was not in his usual compartment, and by the time Albus had checked every single compartment on the train, he’d had no luck and there were no longer any empty compartments.

Trying to ignore the dread building in his stomach, he trudged back to the compartment where he had seen Rose sitting, pushing the door open reluctantly. He had no interest in sitting with his cousin or socialising in any way with her friends, but he could not find Scorpius, and was beginning to wonder whether or not he was even on the train. And there was no one else who would put up with him.  
“Hi, Rose,” he muttered.  
“Albus?” Rose frowned. “What are you doing here? Where’s Scorpius?”

Albus shrugged, biting his lip. He didn’t want to consider what meant that Scorpius wasn’t coming back to school. He was fully aware that, while he hated Hogwarts with a burning passion, Scorpius loved the place, and completely came alive on the days where the bullies were kind enough to leave them alone. His lack of appearance meant that something truly serious had happened, and Albus hated to consider what that might be.  
“Can I sit here?” he asked quietly. “I can’t find Scorpius anywhere.”  
“Did the freak go missing?” someone mutters. “Maybe he just wanted to distance himself from the Squib.”

Albus ignored them, as did Rose. She nodded, moving her cloak so that Albus could sit next to her. He swallowed, pushed his trunk into the overhead rack and sat.  
“Thanks,” he muttered.

For the most part of the journey, Albus was ignored by his companions, and he was incredibly grateful for this. He pulled out a book about an hour into the journey and sat, trying to read. He found it difficult to concentrate, however, when Scorpius was missing. He had never made it this far into a journey on the train without Scorpius.

A few times, people ducked their heads into the compartment to say hello and have a quick catch up, and Albus asked if they’d seen Scorpius. They all eyed him with the same raised eyebrows, surprised that he, the Slytherin Squib, were even asking where Scorpius was. Or, as they liked to think of him, the freak.

Eventually, Albus stopped asking. It was pretty obvious that Scorpius wasn’t on the train and Albus’ thoughts turned to working out why his friend wasn’t present. He knew that Scorpius would never miss any part of Hogwarts if he could help it, and his thoughts continued to cycle around the multiple, increasingly-worse possibilities of what had happened.

His thoughts landed continuously on Astoria Malfoy. He knew that she had been unwell for a long time, but he desperately hoped that she had miraculously started to recover at the end of summer and Scorpius had just managed to miss the train in the excitement. It was a nice fantasy, but Albus was all too aware that it was probably nothing more than that. He didn’t want to consider the reality.

Instead, he tried to turn his attention to the things happening in the compartment, while still appearing to be concentrating on his book. That act was likely fading a little as he hadn’t turned a page in about half-an-hour. Everybody else in the compartment seemed happy, even eager, to return to Hogwarts, laughing with each other and exchanging banter. Part of Albus couldn’t understand it, and another part of him took the liberty of reminding him that he could have had that sort of fun, had he just followed Rose from the compartment on the first day.

He shook himself firmly. In no way did he regret having Scorpius as his only friend. They worked together, and Scorpius was, by far, the kindest person in the year. Albus would have rather remained friends with Scorpius, even if it did result in the constant bullying for both of them that went seemingly ignored by every bystander ever present. Scorpius was worth that. That and so much more.

The sky began to darken as they drew closer to Hogwarts and Albus excused himself from the compartment as soon as he could, muttering a thank you to them for tolerating him as he hurried out into the corridor. He waited for the train to stop, before opening the door quickly, ready to step out into the evening air, when a voice echoed up from behind him.  
“Albus?” his younger sister called. “Albus?”

He stepped out onto the platform and then turned around to see Lily jumping out the train, a wide grin plastered on her face. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her, instead offering the best smile he could with the knot of worry festering in the pit of his stomach.

She almost ran through the sea of students to reach Hagrid, who smiled at her, starting to speak with her as if they’d seen each other the day before. Knowing Lily, they had probably been writing to each other for weeks anyway. She had been waiting for her first day at Hogwarts for longer than Albus could remember. It was incredibly irritating at times.

He knew he should have been pleased that he would see another familiar face around school, but the lack of Scorpius was incredibly distracting. As distracting as Scorpius usually was when they saw each other after summer. He sighed, trudging up through the sea of students to find a carriage that didn’t contain people who would spend the entire journey teasing him.

He ended up sat in a coach full of excited second years, who didn’t seem to notice him clambering in miserably. The lack of Scorpius was starting to move from solely worrying to wholly unpleasant. He had never navigated Hogwarts without Scorpius, and he wasn’t exactly keen to start now.

He shook himself for the hundredth time that day. Scorpius had probably gotten distracted by something and had missed the train. He’d be in the Hall. They’d have the after-summer reunion at the Slytherin table, and everything that had flooded through his head would disappear.

He tried to convince himself of this as the carriages rolled up the road towards the school gates, the sound of chatter and splattering mud rolling through the wind. It always seemed to be windy. That was what the school got for being in the heart of Scotland.

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later, shivering and damp, Albus followed the rest of the school into the Great Hall, settling in his usual spot at the Slytherin table and looking around for Scorpius expectantly. There was, however, no white-blond hair standing out from the sea of brunette and blond and Albus bit his lip, trying not to get too worked up. It wasn’t worth it. He might come later.

He would come. Albus was sure of that much. Scorpius would turn up.

However, by the time that the First Years filed into the Great Hall nervously, all staring up at the ceiling in awe, Albus was beginning to wonder if Scorpius was really going to make an appearance. It was rare for anyone to miss the train, and if they did, they normally turned up before the First Years did. And Scorpius hadn’t.

Lily waved at him excitedly as she spotted him, and he tried to wave back, rolling his eyes as she returned her attention to the ceiling. Every First Year knew of its existence and most had seen images of it, yet they all gawked for an impossible length of time upon entering the Hall.

He waited, with the rest of the school, as the Sorting took place. For half a moment, as the Hat fell low over Lily’s eyes, Albus felt himself hope that she might end up in Slytherin with him and that might stop him being such a limp disappointment to everyone on the planet.

But the Sorting Hat’s decision ran predictably true and Lily almost ran towards James, who pulled her into a stupidly over-the-top hug, smirking at Albus.

Albus rolled his eyes again, looking down at his plate. Sometimes it felt as if his family didn’t actually want him in their unit. Which was part of why he relied so heavily upon Scorpius. Scorpius cared about him. He cared about Scorpius. And neither of them were second best to each other.

Which was one of the only things Albus really wanted. He wanted to not be less, or a second option, and with Scorpius, he wasn’t.

The feast dragged by and, despite having eaten almost nothing during the day, Albus could not bring himself to do more than just pick at his food and constantly check to see if Scorpius had appeared.

He didn’t, and Albus walked alone to the dungeons after the feast, ignoring all the happy, now slightly exhausted chatter that bounced around him. No one else seemed to care that Scorpius was missing, but this was hardly surprising. Nobody cared about him. Nobody cared about either of them.

Albus started to unbutton his robes as he opened the dormitory door, sighing. Another long day. Another day of not being part of anything. Another day of missing Scorpius. His dorm mates would likely stay up, continuing to chat and play chess and mess around for hours, but he just wanted to sleep. It passed the time quite effectively.

Or rather, he wanted to sleep until he looked up to see Scorpius sat silently on his bed, staring forwards, almost blank. He stopped short, incredibly surprised that his friend had come straight here instead of the feast, and then he hurried over, breaking into a wide smile.  
“Scorpius,” he said excitedly. “Scorpius, are you okay?”

He was completely silent as he looked up at Albus, tears tracks running down his face. Albus sat down next to him slowly, trying not to speak too quickly.  
“Your mum?” he murmured. “It’s got worse?”  
“It’s got the worst it could possibly get,” Scorpius’ voice cracked.

Albus felt a lump form in his throat. He had thought that might have been it, but he had hoped so desperately that it wasn’t. Scorpius was the least-deserving person of that hellish reality.  
“I thought you’d send an owl,” Albus mumbled uselessly.  
“I couldn’t work out what to say.”  
“And now I don’t know what to say.”  
“Say nothing,” Scorpius shook his head.  
“Is there anything…”  
“Come to the funeral.”  
“Of course.”  
“And be my good friend.”

Albus sat down beside him, placing an arm around him gently. It was not something he had ever done before, but whenever he felt alone, it was the thing he wanted most. And he knew that he could not comprehend how alone Scorpius was feeling. So, he just wrapped his arms around his friend.

Scorpius leaned into him, muffling his sobs as he buried his face in Albus’ shoulder. Albus didn’t say anything else, unsure of what he could actually say to make any difference to Scorpius in any way. So he just stayed with him. He tried to be a good friend, tried to be what Scorpius needed.

And, in a way, it helped him. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he was starting to feel slightly better about his relationship with his dad when it was partially due to Scorpius’ unimaginable pain. But it was a reality and he couldn’t ignore that either. So, he acknowledged it, and then attempted to convince himself that he was selfish. And then he just turned his thoughts back to Scorpius completely.

After about an hour of simply sitting together, the dormitory door started to open again, their overly-cheerful dorm mates started to wonder in, still chatting. The majority of them ignored Albus and Scorpius, curled up together on Scorpius’ bed, especially after Albus let go of Scorpius temporarily to close the hangings around them. He could dispute the whatever rumours formed about them another time.

After a few more minutes, Scorpius let go of Albus as he lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Albus stayed sitting, but he continued to hold his friend’s hand, running his thumb up and down Scorpius’ knuckles.  
“Albus,” his words were barely audible.  
“Scorpius?”  
“I’m scared.”  
“I’m here,” Albus whispered. “Scorpius, I’m here.”

Scorpius shut his eyes tightly, his breathing unsteady. Albus bit his lip as he saw a tear streak down his friend’s cheek, disappearing into the pillow. There was silence for a long time. Albus was caught between wondering if noise was simply muffled by the hangings or if his dorm mates were actually giving Scorpius the silence that he probably needed.

Albus wasn’t entirely sure if that was what Scorpius wanted, given that he had probably been alone in Malfoy Manor, but he also knew that Scorpius’ mind started to work unnecessarily fast when lots of voices blended together and he was upset. Albus didn’t want to put Scorpius through that.

After a few minutes, Scorpius’ breathing began to steady itself and Albus felt himself breathe a little more easily as he saw Scorpius’ chest rising and falling steadily.   
“Scorpius?” he whispered. “Are you feeling okay?”

No reply. Albus squeezed his hand, and when there was no response from that, he assumed Scorpius was asleep. He waited a few more minutes, and when nothing changed, he stood up carefully, trying not to wake his friend as he let himself back into the room.

He ignored the stares of the others as he walked to his bed, pushing his trunk to the side and pulling his duvet over his shoulder. He walked back to Scorpius bed, laying the duvet down and folding it over to make a sort of mattress on the floor. Then he walked back to his trunk, opening it and pulling out one of his robes. It would do as a blanket. It was big enough and it wasn’t a particularly cold night.

Surprisingly, nobody demanded to know what was going on as he walked out for a few minutes to change into his pyjamas. The silence continued as he walked back in, dumped his clothes in his trunk, and lay down on his makeshift bed. He poked his hand through the gap in the hangings on Scorpius’ bed, finding his friend’s hand and holding on tightly.

It wasn’t the most comfortable, but Albus didn’t mind. It would help Scorpius when he woke up. Hopefully. Albus needed it to help him, because he had no idea what else he could do, and he needed to do something.

* * *

 

The next morning, classes started. It was from the start, quite obvious that the teachers were unaware of what had happened over summer. Many of them expressed surprise to Albus, or Scorpius himself, at his lack of the enthusiasm that he usually possessed. Scorpius would never reply, just dragging himself off to his next lesson as Albus muttered something about personal reasons and a small apology.

The teachers didn’t stop him, and by Wednesday, most of them did seem aware of what had happened to Scorpius. They were sensitive, not pushing Scorpius in any way, which Albus appreciated heavily. However, that didn’t stop Scorpius pushing himself, insisting on completing the work to some attempt of his usual standard. Albus tried constantly to stop him, pointing out that he was going through hell and didn’t need to, but Scorpius would just ignore him, turning over another sheet of parchment.

The teachers did not attempt to tell Scorpius during lessons that he was exempt from homework – they had apparently realised what extent the bullying carried to – but Scorpius never stayed long enough to receive the message afterwards. Scorpius did not believe Albus when he said, and ignored any letters that he received, from anyone.

Albus slept on the floor beside Scorpius’ bed every night, his hand in Scorpius’, and the reaction to this was the closest anyone saw to Scorpius. The grateful, weak half-smiles in the morning when he thought no one was looking. The tears muffled by a pillow late in the evenings as he held Albus’ hand tightly, when he thought his friend was asleep.

Albus didn’t tell him otherwise. Whatever form of comfort Scorpius was taking from that would be lessened if Scorpius knew that he knew. So, instead, he just tried to offer Scorpius a little more of that comfort during the day. When they were alone in the library, Albus would occasionally take Scorpius’ hand when he looked particularly scared or stressed. And Scorpius would look up to see if they were alone. When it was obvious that they were, he would send Albus another tiny, weak, grateful smile.

Scorpius never told Albus what he was scared about, and Albus had no intention of prying. Scorpius was putting himself under too much pressure already. If he wouldn’t listen to Albus over that, then Albus wouldn’t make it worse.

Until Thursday evening.

Until Albus found Scorpius in the library, bending over three different books, sobbing, almost screaming, into a part of his robe sleeve that he had screwed up and forced into his mouth. He kept making retching sounds between his muffled cries and Albus felt his stomach lurch. Scorpius was going to be sick if he wasn’t careful.

Albus placed a careful hand on Scorpius’ back, pulling the robe sleeve away gently. Scorpius looked up at him, shaking in what Albus assumed was an attempt to continue to stay silent. He crouched down by the chair, placing a hand against Scorpius’ forehead as he noticed how unusually red his friend was.

Albus tried not to wince when he realised how warm Scorpius was, standing up quickly and helping Scorpius take the robe coat off, hanging it off the back of the chair.  
“What’s going on?” Albus whispered, pulling Scorpius into a hug.  
“I need to work,” Scorpius pulled away. “I’ve got so much to do.”  
“Stop,” Albus said firmly, taking Scorpius’ hand. “Stop.”  
“I need to keep going.”  
“You finished everything,” Albus pointed out. “You didn’t need to do any of it and you’ve finished everything.”  
“I didn’t do well enough on any of them,” Scorpius muttered. “I’ve got to redo most of them and–”  
“No,” Albus said firmly. “No you don’t. You look exhausted. Did you sleep last night?”  
“That’s not important–”

Before he could turn back to his work, Albus grabbed the books from the desk, holding onto them. It was a crude action, and wouldn’t help Scorpius calm down, but it would get Scorpius to listen to him. That was what he needed.  
“Did you sleep last night?”  
“Not really.”  
“When did you last eat?”  
“Can’t remember.”

Albus took a deep breath, glancing up at the clock on the wall. Through some stupidly good stroke of luck, Scorpius had come during dinner. Although that probably wasn’t coincidence.   
“Scorpius, look at me.”  
“Can I have my books back, please?”  
“Scorpius.”  
“Please.”  
“Are you going to do the work?”  
“Yes.”  
“Scorpius. You’re going home tomorrow. You haven’t eaten. You haven’t slept. Please rest. Please.”  
“I’m going to miss the work.”  
“And they won’t mind because you are going through hell. Please. Please eat something. Anything.”

Albus jumped slightly as Scorpius rolled off his chair, landing in a pile on the floor, leaning into Albus’ arms, his sobs returning. Albus dropped the books and held him, rocking him back and forth for a few minutes. And then he whispered again.  
“Please.”  
“Something,” Scorpius mumbled. “Small. Something small.”  
“As long as you eat,” Albus said, “as long as you eat something, I don’t care how big or small it is.”

Scorpius started to stand up, leaning against the desk as Albus picked up the books. He stood up, putting them on the desk and gathering the parchment up into a pile.  
“Just leave it,” Scorpius said. “I’ll get it later.”  
“No,” Albus said firmly. “ _I’ll_ get it later. You are going to get some sleep.”  
“You won’t be there?”  
“I will be back as soon as I can.”  
“Promise?”

Albus nodded, piling the books in the corner of the desk so that they weren’t in the way. Then they started to walk towards the door. Scorpius stumbled, catching himself on Albus’ shoulder. Albus looped his arm under Scorpius’ arms, pulling him back up to standing.  
“You okay?”  
“Yeah,” Scorpius nodded. “Sorry. My knee. I don’t really know. Sorry.”  
“Don’t apologise,” Albus said softly. “It’s fine. I’ve got you.”  
“Thanks,” Scorpius’ voice cracked.  
“Come on.”

Leaning on Albus for support when his knee buckled underneath him, Scorpius walked slowly towards the door, and Albus let himself smile slightly. Scorpius would be okay. They just had to get through the next few days.

* * *

 

The next morning, Scorpius was gone when Albus woke up on the floor beside his bed. Albus sat up, glancing around and trying not to panic. Scorpius was probably just in the bathroom. Or something.

He stood up, stretching and wiping the sleep from his eyes. The dormitory was reasonably empty and Albus assumed most of the others had already gone to breakfast. They did, after all, have lessons to go to.

He and Scorpius did not. He and Scorpius were leaving for Malfoy Manor that morning, to get ready for the funeral the next day. Albus was aware that he had never met Astoria for more than a few minutes on the platform, and some people might not consider that enough for him to attend her funeral. Or that was the route that his mind enjoyed taking him along.

He did his best to ignore it, reminding himself that Scorpius had asked him to be there. And that Scorpius needed him to be there. He would be there for him. Scorpius was one of the most important people in his life and he would willingly go to the end of the earth for him.

Scorpius understood him. Scorpius listened. Scorpius cared. When Albus felt most alone, he knew that Scorpius was there, knew that Scorpius cared. Albus needed that, and he knew that Scorpius needed that more than he admitted. He knew. So he would be there.  
“Albus,” Scorpius said, opening the door.  
“Are you okay?” Albus smiled softly, walking towards him.  
“I don’t know,” Scorpius admitted. “I want to go home, but I’m scared. I don’t really know why. But I am. I just…I don’t know.”  
“I’ll be here,” Albus promised, taking his hand gently. “I’ll be here the whole time.”  
“We have a spare mattress,” Scorpius mumbled. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”  
“I don’t mind it if it’s helping you. It’s not really that uncomfortable.”  
“Thank you,” Scorpius whispered. “For looking after me.”

Albus smiled at him gently before turning to pick up his shirt and robes. Scorpius was already wearing his robes and he knelt down and pulled out a backpack from his trunk. He started to fill it with a few things that he needed, rushing a little. Albus placed a hand on his shoulder gently, and he stopped slightly, taking a deep breath.

He had attempted to pack the previous night when they had arrived back from dinner, but Albus had insisted that he go to sleep, and he had stayed with his friend until he had fallen asleep, before taking a few minutes to go and get the books from the library. When he had returned, he assumed the normal routine, lain down beside Scorpius and fallen asleep.

Albus changed out of his pyjamas reasonably quickly upon entering the bathrooms, putting on his shirt and smoothing it out a few times. He hadn’t really met Draco Malfoy before. It seemed like an odd thing to concentrate on but Albus knew that he would have a little niggling sensation in his head if he didn’t do his best to make a decent impression, even in the circumstances.

Once he was dressed, he folded his pyjamas and pulled out his own backpack, placing them inside. He started to fold the dress robes his mum had sent to him after Albus had wrote, requesting permission to go with Scorpius to the funeral, glancing continually at Scorpius. His movements had slowed, and he was just staring into space, his hands clenched tightly.  
“Scorpius?”  
“Yeah?” Scorpius jumped, stumbling a little way back.  
“You okay?”  
“I…” Scorpius trailed off, looking over his shoulder at Albus. “I don’t know.”

He didn’t say anything else and Albus decided not to press it, finishing his packing and standing up, perching on his bed.   
“Why?” Scorpius was so quiet that Albus almost didn’t hear the question.  
“Why what?”  
“Why did she die? Why did my mum die? What did she ever do wrong?”

Albus bit his lip, blinking back tears. He didn’t have an answer. He didn’t even have something he could say that might make Scorpius feel any better. So he just walked over to him, wrapping his arms around him gently. Scorpius turned sharply, resting his chin on Albus’ shoulder.   
“I’m so scared,” he whispered. “I’m so scared of going home.”  
“I know,” Albus murmured, unsure of what else he could do. “I know.”  
“It was quiet. It was so quiet. Without her. I…I don’t want to go back. I have to. But I…I’m so scared.”

Albus rocked him back and forth, trying to take deep breaths. He felt so utterly useless. Scorpius had always been the better person in a bad situation, and it hadn’t ever occurred to Albus that he might have to help Scorpius through something as large as this one day. And here they were.   
“Sorry,” Scorpius sniffled, standing up slowly. “We should go.”  
“Are you okay with that?” Albus stood up with him, passing him a tissue.   
“I want to say goodbye,” Scorpius nodded. “I need to.”

Albus nodded, picking up their bags. Scorpius went to take his and Albus let him take it, putting his arm around his friend. They walked out the dormitory slowly, ignoring the stares of Sixth and Seventh Years about to start their free periods.

It was reasonably obvious as they walked up towards Professor McGonagall’s office that the bell had gone, because the corridors were almost entirely deserted. They were practically unnoticed as they climbed various staircases, which was a mercy. Everything hit harder now and Albus was well-aware that, if anyone picked a fight with them now, Scorpius would not be able to cope.

That didn’t happen, mercifully, and they knocked on the office entrance, waiting for the gargoyle to turn in silence. Then, they climbed up the stairs into the tower, knocking on the door and waiting, a little apprehensive. Albus could not remember having ever visited the headteacher’s office in his time at Hogwarts. Anything that ever happened to him was dealt with by Professor Longbottom, or it wasn’t dealt with. Usually the latter.

The door opened and Professor McGonagall called them inside quietly. She was sat at her desk, reading several pages of files on a surprisingly messy desk, and she looked up as Albus and Scorpius walked in.

Scorpius stared at the carpet, stood slightly behind Albus. Albus didn’t make a big deal of it, offering his friend an attempt at a reassuring smile before looking back at Professor McGonagall. She had stood up and was retrieving a pot from the mantelpiece.

It was strange, to Albus, how, no matter where he went, the pot of Floo Powder was always a battered old flower-pot. It was a strange thing to be constant, but it was also nice. It was nice to have something familiar in the majority of places.  
“Scorpius?” he prompted.  
“Oh, sorry,” Scorpius jumped slightly, taking a shaky handful of powder.  
“It’s okay,” Albus said, taking his own handful. “Do you want to go first?”  
“I don’t know.”

Albus walked towards the fireplace, feeling his hands turn a little clammy as they got closer to the heat. Scorpius followed silently, continuing to stare at the carpet. Albus stepped into the fireplace, looking at Scorpius again before he closed his eyes to stop the soot entering.  
“Malfoy Manor!”

The familiar unpleasant spinning sensation began as Albus threw the powder into the flames, shutting his mouth quickly. He tried to ignore how unpleasant it felt as he span through thousands of fireplaces, eventually being spat out on a hard-stone floor. He scrambled out of the way quickly to avoid Scorpius crashing into him.

He looked around himself as he did. He had never visited Malfoy Manor before and being stood in what Albus assumed was the front hall was quite intimidating. It was incredibly grand, ornate marble coating just about every surface he could see. And if something wasn’t made of marble, it was made of carved wood, a deep, rich brown colour that was apparently intended to be homely but was too formal to ever be considered that.

And Draco Malfoy was stood in the doorway.

Albus pulled himself to his feet quickly as Scorpius shot out of the fire, sliding a few feet. He got up immediately, looking at Albus. He already looked uneasy, his shoulders slightly hunched as he walked over slowly.  
“Scorpius?”  
Scorpius jumped. “Dad?”

Albus watched as Scorpius walked over to his dad slowly and the two of them hugged awkwardly, both unsure of what they were doing.  
“Dad,” Scorpius said quietly. “This is Albus. Albus, this is my dad.”  
“It’s nice to meet you,” Albus murmured. “I’m – I’m really sorry. For what’s happening.”

Draco nodded, not saying anything. Albus didn’t blame him. He looked like something had destroyed him, and it was. It was eating him alive. That was evident from the huge bags under his eyes, the creases on his shirt, the sheer amount of his appearance that was simply ‘out of place’.  
“Dad,” Scorpius mumbled. “I was going to take Albus upstairs. Put our things away.”  
“Okay,” Draco nodded again, not really looking.

Scorpius grabbed Albus’ hand and pulled him towards the stairs quickly, taking some of the stairs two at a time. It was the fastest Albus had seen Scorpius move since before summer and he followed, frowning a little. Something was really wrong. Really, really wrong.

They stopped abruptly outside a doorway once they’d reached the top of the stairs and Scorpius fumbled with the door, pushing it open shakily. Albus followed him in, biting his lip as his friend sunk down against his bed, his hands starting to clench into fists.  
“Scorpius?”  
“I thought,” Scorpius started to cry, “I thought he might be okay. At least sort of. I thought…”

He looked up at Albus, who sat down beside him, placing an arm around his shoulders. Scorpius curled up, burying his face into Albus’ shoulder and continuing to cry.   
“If I lose dad,” Scorpius sobbed, “I can’t…”  
“You won’t,” Albus said firmly. “You won’t lose your dad. He’s just struggling. Like you are. He’ll come through.”  
“I want my mum,” Scorpius whispered. “I want my mummy. Please. Please.”  
“I know,” Albus found his heart shatter. “I know.”

They didn’t move much after that.

* * *

 

On the occasion that Albus and Scorpius did venture out of Scorpius’ room, they were met with a combination of chaotic organisation for the funeral, or they saw Draco, whose emotional numbness never left his eyes. So, Scorpius asked to stay in his room most of the day and Albus didn’t object.

The next morning, Albus woke early and sat in the dark, staring upwards. He could hear Scorpius’ breathing, steady and calm. A beautiful rarity. It wouldn’t last. Albus did not know when he would next actually hear the sound.

So, he just listened, eventually breathing in and out with Scorpius for some reason or other. It let the minutes pass as he drifted in and out of vague consciousness, trying to work out what he could do to make today easier for Scorpius. He couldn’t think of anything.  
“Albus.”  
“Scorpius?”  
“Thank you.”

Scorpius hand appeared, dangling down the side of the bed, and Albus took it, having taken up his usual residence on the floor, though he was sleeping on an actual mattress now. Scorpius, whether conscious of his actions or not, grasped Albus’ hand tightly, and Albus closed his eyes. Today would be hard for everyone, but it would pass. And then there was just the rest of life to contend with.

About half an hour later, Scorpius sat up, letting go of Albus’ hand and climbing out of bed. Albus sat up, watching him cross to his wardrobe and pull the doors open slowly. He pushed a few hangers out the way, taking out a set of robes that Albus couldn’t imagine he was keen to wear – they looked incredibly uncomfortable. Then he walked slowly back across the room, sitting down on the bed again.

Albus stood up, sitting next to him. Scorpius looked at him, his eyes shining with tears. Albus bit his lip.  
“I’m not ready to say goodbye,” Scorpius whispered.   
“You’re not saying goodbye,” Albus said softly. “You’re just – if you don’t want to say goodbye, then you’re not saying goodbye. She is with you. All the time. You don’t have to say goodbye.”  
Scorpius nodded. “I should get ready. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”  
“You can change in here if you want. I’ll go down the hall.”  
“Thanks.”

Albus leaned down and opened his bag, pulling out his robes. They were a little creased, but it wasn’t hugely noticeable. And if he was getting hell from Scorpius’ relatives for it, it might take the pressure off of Scorpius.

The corridor outside Scorpius’ room was increasingly busier than it had been the day before. Albus kept to the side, staring at the carpet as he walked down to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him quickly as he got there.

He pulled off his pyjama top quickly, buttoning up his shirt and pulling on the trousers. As he put the robe on over the top, he frowned slightly, pulling a small thin object from the top pocket. In spite of himself, he smiled. Of course his mother had put a comb into his robe pocket.

Albus was aware that his hair took after his father’s, and he tried to ignore this most of the time. He glanced in the mirror, taking a moment to straighten his collar and turn the lapels of his robes out properly. His hair was, predictably, an absolute state, and he ran the comb under the tap for a few seconds before pulling it through his hair. The water dripped down the back of his neck and he wiped it away, flicking the droplets into the sink.  
“Deep breath,” he muttered. “Deep breath for Scorpius.”

There was a knock on the door and Albus straightened up, standing still for half a moment more. Then he picked up his pyjamas and opened the door, nodding a silent hello to whoever was waiting outside.

He knocked on the door as he got back to Scorpius’ room and it unlatched itself, opening. Albus slipped in to find Scorpius stood in his robes, apparently incredibly uncomfortable, and staring blankly out the window.  
“Scorpius?”  
“We should probably go downstairs,” Scorpius said quietly. “It’s later than I thought it was.”  
“Okay,” Albus nodded, walking over to him.

Scorpius looked back at him, tears shimmering in his eyes again. Albus put his right arm around him gently, taking his hand with his left.  
“Thank you,” Scorpius whispered. “Thank you for being here.”

Albus nodded, smiling softly at him. The two of them walked slowly towards Scorpius’ bedroom door and Scorpius stopped as he started to open it, letting go of Albus’ hand. Albus didn’t blame him, knowing that they were about to face a wall of uptight relatives.

When they reached the front door, they were joined by Draco Malfoy, dressed in jet-black robes, his hair spread around his shoulders, nothing out of place. He places a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder gently, opening the door.  
“Most people are – seated,” he said quietly. “Albus, if you would join them, there’s a seat set aside for you next to Scorpius’.”  
“Thank you,” Albus said, taking the door. “See you in a bit?”  
“Okay,” Scorpius nodded, his voice barely audible.

Albus walked through the door, blinking in the bright mid-morning sunlight. He glanced around and started to walk towards the gathering people a little way away. Scorpius had mentioned that Astoria had asked for her funeral to take place outside, and this seemed to be the only thing he could concentrate on his walk. That, and the fact that he, Albus _Potter_ was attending the family funeral of a Malfoy. That didn’t matter.

He was one of the last to arrive, and he was glad that he could walk around the rows of chairs to reach his seat in the front row. In the close family row. For those few minutes before the service, he was the only person sat there. Which seemed strange when he had never really met Astoria. But he was there for Scorpius. And that was more important than where he was sat.

The service began a few minutes later, the attendees standing up as gentle piano music echoed from some unknown corner of the gathering. The coffin, covered with deep-crimson roses and small purple balloon flowers, floated down the aisle, followed by Scorpius and Draco, hand in hand. Scorpius looked as if he was barely holding back tears as he found his way to his seat, stumbling a few times.

From the row behind them, a man stood up and walked to the front, starting to speak quietly. His voice, despite being barely audible to Albus, seemed to carry to the back of crowd. Quite early on, Scorpius placed his hand on Albus’, and Albus held on tightly as his friend muffled his tears with his sleeve.

The service was quiet, a few people speaking with varying levels of sincerity. Albus wasn’t sure that he had ever seen Draco Malfoy, infamous for being well-presented and ‘proper’, so entirely vulnerable. When he spoke, his voice cracked constantly, and was difficult to hear through his quiet and tears. When he looked at the coffin, Albus half-expected him to collapse in his grief.

And when Draco sat down again, and the other man continued the service, Albus felt Scorpius curl in on himself beside him, his shoulders shaking with tears. And there was very little that Albus could do. So, he attempted to do his best with a subtle hand-hold and rubbing his thumb up and down Scorpius’ knuckles in the way that he had taken to doing at Hogwarts.

Scorpius seemed to take a little comfort from that.

* * *

 

After the service, the guests walked up towards the manor for what was described as ‘light refreshments’ by the man leading the funeral. Albus stayed with Scorpius, who stood for a few minutes, just looking at the flowers and notes on the coffin. Beside it, there was a few photos of Astoria. One of her. One of her and Draco. Another of her and Scorpius. And one of the three of them. One of their family.

Scorpius picked it up, running his thumb up and down the frame as tears streaked down his face. Draco placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and Albus took a step back, giving both of them a little privacy.

He turned away, looking at the garden around him. There were hundreds of flowers, in every flowerbed that he could see, and Albus smiled a little at that. Scorpius had said once that there were always flowers in bloom in the garden, because Astoria had planted so many different types from different climates. He said that she used to steal clippings from gardens they visited, and she would plant them in the garden when they arrived home. It had been her way of ‘pissing of her parents’ a lot of the time.

Albus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He shivered as a gust of wind blew around him, dragging the beginnings of cloud cover with it, and then jumped slightly as Scorpius appeared by his shoulder. He had tear streaks all over his face, huge bags under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense.  
“Can we go up…” he trailed off, nodding towards the house. “Dad is staying. For a bit…”  
“Of course,” Albus nodded.

The two of them started to walk slowly up, mainly silent. It seemed so stupid to ask if Scorpius was okay, because it was obvious that he wasn’t. But there wasn’t anything else Albus could think of to say. So, he just remained silent.

The majority of the guests were sat or stood around the ballroom, chatting quietly and holding drinks or canapés. Scorpius wondered away from the majority of people, to a small bookshelf in the corner of the room. Albus watched him pull a book from it shakily, opening it to a marked page.  
“Mum promised,” he started to cry again, “mum promised she would stay with me.”  
“I know,” Albus murmured gently. “I know.”

Scorpius started to read something that had been written in the book, and Albus didn’t pry, watching him quietly. Occasionally, someone would come to speak to them, murmuring apologies and condolences to Scorpius and saying a polite, almost rehearsed, hello to Albus. He normally returned it quickly, attempting to focus on making sure Scorpius was as okay as he could be.

As the afternoon drew on, more people came to see them, most of them people who even Scorpius didn’t appear to know, as they introduced themselves to him too. He didn’t respond much, mainly nodding and continuing to read whatever was in the book. Albus assumed, at that point, that it was something his mother had written, as he had not seen Scorpius turn the page the entire time.

Scorpius was getting increasingly jumpy and nervous as more people attempted to speak to him, and eventually, he closed the book, putting it back on the shelf shakily.  
“Albus?”  
“How are you feeling?” Albus asked softly.  
“I need some time outside,” Scorpius mumbled. “It’s just…it’s loud…and I need to…on my own.”  
“Okay,” Albus nodded. “Take your time. I’ll be here if you need me.”  
“Thanks,” Scorpius said quickly.

Albus watched him as he half-stumbled through the people towards the door, biting his lip for the hundredth time that day. Scorpius was, undoubtedly, the strongest person that he knew, and this was destroying him. Albus wasn’t sure how much of it his friend could take, especially when they were due to go back to school the next morning.

Their disappearance over the weekend would not have gone unnoticed. Albus was well-aware that he and Scorpius would be subject to thousands of questions that pried too far, simply because they would both be varying levels of vulnerable and people would feel able to take advantage of that. He would, of course, answer as many questions so that Scorpius didn’t have to think about it any more than his mind insisted, but it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t hurt him.

He leaned against the wall, looking around at the room properly for the first time. Scraps of conversation floated around, most of them unrelated to anything he actually understood. He assumed it was some sort of tradition; to make small talk and pry into others’ businesses to exploit them and ‘one-up’ each other. Or maybe that was just the idea of Pure Bloods that had been driven into his head.

There had only ever been one opinion when his family spoke about the blood divisions that remained from the war. And he hadn’t ever thought about it differently until he had met Scorpius. Those families that had considered themselves ‘pure’ may have been wrong, but it seemed that many others actively ignored anyone who attempted to change.  
“Albus Potter.”

Albus focussed again to see Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stood in front of him, unsmiling. He stood up a little straighter, aware that they were scrutinising everything about his appearance.  
“Mr Malfoy,” he nodded an attempt at a greeting. “Mrs Malfoy.”  
“I was surprised to see you here,” Mr Malfoy said quietly, his tone laced with quiet venom.   
“Scorpius invited me,” Albus said calmly.   
“I wasn’t aware that you two were close,” Mr Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “No matter.”

He paused for a moment, and Albus looked away awkwardly. He had no idea what he was doing. He had no idea how Scorpius coped with doing the right thing in these sorts of social situations, even when he was supposedly used to it.   
“Was there anything else?” Albus asked, still not looking at them.   
“What did you think of the music?” Mrs Malfoy said calmly.  
“The music?”  
“At the service.”  
“It was,” Albus paused, “it was nice music, I guess. It was what Draco knew Astoria would have wanted.”  
“It was,” Mr Malfoy nodded. “The piano piece was her favourite song.”

Albus nodded, not exactly sure why they were telling him this. They were aware that he hadn’t known Astoria, and it didn’t appear as if they were speaking highly of the decision.  
“Is there something you actually wanted to say?” Albus tried not to let his voice waver.   
“You probably haven’t been to a truly traditional funeral before,” Mr Malfoy said calmly. “The use of that song, given its composer, was a little inappropriate.”  
“Why is that important?” Albus frowned. “Today is a celebration of Astoria’s life. If she liked that song, that shouldn’t be ignored. And that isn’t even the most important part of it.”

Mr Malfoy looked down at him, a look of loathing growing on his face. Obviously, Albus had disappointed him with that reply.  
“It is important,” Mr Malfoy said curtly, “to uphold tradition.”  
“Tradition?” Albus raised his eyebrows. “Is this the part of tradition where you attack people for blood? I don’t recall there being another part to it.”  
“How dare you–”   
“No,” Albus interrupted firmly, keeping his voice low. “How dare you? I know this is your family home, and your family, but fuck off. Your son and grandson are burying one of the most important people in their lives today. If you have an issue with keeping your mouth shut to let them grieve their loss, then fuck off.”

Mr Malfoy’s expression twisted into one of utter shock and disbelief. Albus doubted that anyone had ever actually spoken to him in that way before, and if they had it had not been without consequence. Albus however, stood tall, unafraid. He had done the right thing.  
“I don’t know a lot about your son,” he said quietly, “but I do know a hell of a lot about your grandson. And you should know that Astoria was the _most_ important person in his life. You voicing your opinions about how you think that something was wrong with the service where he had to say goodbye to his _mother_ is fucked up. So, please, just piss off. They don’t deserve that. Certainly not today.”

There was a silence for a while and Albus glanced at the clock on the wall, trying to remember when Scorpius had gone out. It had been a while and he looked the Malfoys in the eye, a slight smirk playing at his lips at their look of loathing.  
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said calmly, “I have to go and make sure my friend is okay.”

He ducked around them, weaving through people to make his way to the door. He was stopped as he arrived by a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see Draco.  
“Albus,” he said quietly.  
“Uh, Mr Malfoy?” Albus hesitated.   
“Is Scorpius – coping?”  
“He went out a while ago,” Albus explained quickly. “He said he needed a break, but he’s been gone a while. I was going to look for him.”  
“Right, thank you,” Draco nodded, letting him go.

Albus opened the door, slipping through it and shutting it gently as he saw Scorpius on the other side of the room, staring out the window.  
“Scorpius?”  
“Albus,” he jumped.  
“Sorry,” Albus said quickly. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’ve been gone for a while.”

Scorpius nodded, returning his gaze to the window. Albus walked over to him, following his gaze to see rain pounding down outside, almost like some sort of storm.  
“She loved the rain,” Scorpius mumbled. “She loved it so much.” He smiled slightly to himself. “When it rained a lot in June, dad said…dad said that she asked to move near the window so many times that they moved everything. So that she could see the rain. He said she never stopped smiling. He said…he said she was happy.”

Albus nodded, offering Scorpius an attempt at a smile that wasn’t inconsiderate of the situation. Scorpius returned it slightly, placing his hand on the window-pane.  
“Can we stay out here?” he asked.  
“Of course,” Albus said quickly. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You were gone a while.”

Scorpius nodded, taking his hand off the window for a moment and pulling his robe jacket off slowly. He hung it on a hook near the door, stopping to look back.  
“I need to go outside,” he mumbled. “You don’t…you don’t have to.”  
“Do you want me to go?” Albus asked gently.  
“Yeah,” Scorpius’ voice cracked.  
“Then I’ll come.”

Albus pulled off his robe jacket, hanging it over Scorpius’ as Scorpius opened the front door. Albus joined him and the two of them stepped out into the pounding rain, shivering slightly as the wind picked up.

Almost immediately, the pair of them were soaked through as the rain lashed down around them, but Scorpius didn’t seem to care, almost running down the front steps, his arms thrown out to the sides. He was smiling. He was smiling properly for the first time in what Albus knew was weeks.

Albus followed him, allowing himself a small smile as Scorpius span, staring up at the sky. He looked back, grabbing Albus’ hand and pulling him into a tight hug, laughing softly. He continued to spin with the hug, sinking towards the muddy ground.

Albus didn’t object to the fact that they were both going to ruin their formal clothes. Scorpius looked happy. He knew it was temporary, but that didn’t mean he was going to cut it off sooner.  
“Thank you,” Scorpius whispered. “Thank you for being here.”

He started to shiver and Albus held him tighter, trying to walk them back towards the house slightly. They were both going to get very ill if they stayed out. And it didn’t matter.

Scorpius sank down on the steps as they reached them, still staring upwards. Albus wrapped his arm around his friend, leaning back onto the steps carefully. He looked over at Scorpius, knowing from his cheeks that he was crying again. But he was smiling as well. He was basking in happy memories. Memories of his mum that would stay with him forever because they were the best moments of his life and he could never forget them.

Albus stared upwards into the dark sky, struggling to keep his eyes open as the rain hammered down. But he managed it, staring up into the face of heaven above him. Smiling. Smiling because it was okay. Because Scorpius would be okay eventually. It would be a long time, and Albus didn’t mind the fact that Scorpius would need help through that. What mattered was that there was hope.

Albus ran a hand through his hair, which was sopping wet in the downpour. They had been out for a matter of minutes and they were both utterly soaked through. It was yet another thing he didn’t care about.   
“Mum would have loved this,” Scorpius murmured, barely audible over the droplets of water. “Mum would have loved this rain.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I made cryingbcbooks cry while editing this apparently, so I hope you enjoyed it. It's a product of camping in the rain for a weekend.   
> Kudos and feedback welcome


End file.
